


Lie to Me

by ecchigo



Category: Five Nights at Freddy's
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Inspired by Music, Minor Character Death, Minor Original Character(s), Mutual Pining, Past Relationship(s), Reader-Insert, Slice of Life, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Smoking, Suffering, Swearing, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-23
Updated: 2020-09-01
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:14:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26069323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ecchigo/pseuds/ecchigo
Summary: Mike Schmidt is not an easy man to get along with. That won't stop you from trying.
Relationships: Michael Afton/Reader, Mike Schmidt (Five Nights at Freddy's)/Reader
Comments: 17
Kudos: 68





	1. Minutes to Midnight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! This is an old fic I recently got inspired to redraft and finish :) it's posted to my quote account as well, so if you see it there no worries! I'm posting it here because I suspect it might get a little bit saucy ;)  
> Enjoy!! <3

Mike Schmidt was not an easy man to get along with. Not that you saw all that much of him, considering your shift and his didn’t overlap, and he mostly kept to himself. You could count the number of words exchanged between you on one hand; which, considering you’d worked at the pizzeria for more than a few months, was a little bit sad.  
You tried not to let it bother you too much. What else were you supposed to do?

As always, the pizzeria was dim and silent as you got to work one July evening. It had been a busy day, and business was doing rather well, despite everything. You’d heard the rumours, of course you had, but so had everyone else. About the murders. The news reports had been rather damning all those years ago, and somewhere along the way, someone took the idea of missing bodies and ran with it. You didn’t believe them, for the most part, but you were still sceptical none the less.  
You had to admit, the building did get pretty creepy in the evening. When all the happy children had gone home, when shadows pooled in corners, you couldn’t help but feel a little nervous. Almost like you weren’t alone.  
You tried not to let that bother you too much either. Again, it was out of your hands.  
Taking your time, you made sure to scrub tables and countertops until they were shining; almost like new. The floors were always dirty by the end of the day, no matter how well you swept and mopped and waxed. Maybe you’d talk to the boss about buying one of those fancy mops that steamed the floors too. He probably wouldn’t go for it, to be fair, considering how low your wages already were – an investment like that would come right out of your pay check.  
It was already late by the time you finished with the main rooms on your rounds; a bit of a perfectionist, you wanted them to be spotless before you went home. It’s what you were paid for, after all.  
The only thing left was the security office. You had only been in there a few times since the start of your employment, the boss always said you could just leave it be, but tonight you decided to take a peek, just to be sure. Brush in hand, you made your way along the dull stretch of hallway towards the little room. The office was a lot more cramped than you imagined, more like a refurbished cupboard than an actual office. A thin layer of dust covered pretty much every surface, and you spied several cobwebs in every corner. The desk, which actually took up more than half the space in the room, was abysmal. Empty cans and cups and paper surrounded the monitor, and an almost-full ashtray sat precariously on the edge, pushed aside by a tablet – the only object devoid of dust.  
What a mess. Who could feel comfortable in such a cramped, dirty workplace for 6 hours every night? Well, obviously Mike could, and that’s what worried you. With a sigh, you got to work. It didn’t take you very long to get the room at least somewhat presentable, decluttered and dusted and vacuumed, much to your delight. You could maybe try to clean the stains out the carpet a little more tomorrow, but it would have to do for now. Lifting the now-full bags of rubbish, you made your way to the bins out back.  
You didn’t realise the time.  
There were only minutes to midnight.


	2. Goodnight and Good Luck

Mike arrived later than anticipated that night. He’d somehow managed to sleep in, but after a good pot of coffee, he was now almost fully awake and rushing on adrenaline. As he parked up in front of the dark pizzeria, he practically tripped in his hurry to make it inside in time, before the animatronics woke up. He didn’t even have the time to notice the other car parked across the lot, too busy caught up in his panic to realise someone else was still inside. Throwing the doors open, he inhaled deeply as he locked them into place before he hurried along to his office, just in time. He made it just as the alarm rang for midnight.  
Thank god for that.  
But something was off.  
The room was tidier than he recalled it being the night before. Confused and still catching his breath, Mike took his seat, the tablet already in his large hands. It flickered to life, and he gave a precursory check through the cameras, just to be sure. None of the animatronics had left their places yet, thankfully. However, there was something on the move. Something that made his heart stop in his chest.  
It was a person.  
More specifically, it was you.

You couldn’t know the danger you were in.  
After you’d locked the back door, you went to collect your things. You’d heard the alarm ring, so that meant that Mike must be here by now. Your shifts didn’t usually overrun so much, unless he arrived much earlier than he needed to.  
At least, you thought with a yawn, you could go home now. The eerie animatronics on the stage seemed to watch you as you crossed the room, making you feel a little nervous, a little uncomfortable. Now paranoid, you found it difficult to take your eyes off them, even at the risk of bumping into tables. The robots seemed to follow you with their glassy vacant eyes, sending an involuntary shiver down the length of your spine. They were so creepy. Why on earth did they have to make them look so creepy? During the day they seemed perfectly normal, friendly even, but now in the dark they seemed almost evil.  
In the staff lounge now, you hurried to open your locker and gather your things. You don’t know why you were so afraid, but the feeling in your gut prompted you to get a shunt on.  
You didn’t notice the little green light on the security camera, watching you from the corner of the room. You didn’t notice the animatronic leave the stage.  
You did, however, hear it. Heavy footsteps and creaking joints were the only indication you got that it was on the move.  
Shutting the lounge door behind you, you remained on edge – even though, you knew you had no need to be. You shouldn’t have need to be.  
You knew the animatronics tended to wander a bit at night. The boss had told you as much, to prevent their servos from locking up – there was nothing supernatural about it. The rumours were just rumours.  
Even so, paranoia thrummed in your veins. Bag slung over your shoulder, you slipped past Chica and back into the dining area. She seemed a little disorientated, but followed you like a child to its mother. Bonnie and Freddy watched you, but did not move. The little light on the security camera flickered on, and this time you did notice it.  
Chica continued after you, a strange groan leaving the suit as she moved. Swiftly, you unlocked the doors, striding out before the animatronic could reach you. You locked it behind you, offering the chicken one last look as she waited in front of the glass. She stared right at you, her eyes sad and lifeless.  
You turned to go.

The next evening was similar to the last. You worked thoroughly to clean every room, making sure each one was perfect before you moved onto the next. As you mopped the show stage, you took particular notice of the state of the animatronics. They were all covered in a layer of grime, and my god did they smell. Maybe no one noticed during the day, with all the pizza and stinky children, but holy shit was it overpowering. Your eyes even started to water a bit, and you physically recoiled from them. They needed one hell of a clean.  
Abandoning your mop against the wall, you headed for the supply closet to fetch a bucket and soap. You were sure you’d seen a fabric cleaner in their somewhere too. You had plenty of time. Enough to at least make a dent in the filth.  
Once you had gathered what you needed, you returned to the show stage.  
You were surprised to see Mike Schmidt at one of the tables, glare venomous; but it wasn’t directed at you. His attention was solely on the animatronics.  
“Can I.. help you?” You asked him, your voice breaking the tense silence. With great effort, you managed to prevent yourself from stuttering. He jumped a little, and then his glare was on you. To avoid it, you climbed the steps up to the stage, placing the bucked of warm water down next to Bonnie.  
Mike narrowed his eyes as you began to clean the animatronics. You were gentle with them.  
Much gentler than they deserved.  
“How did you do that?” He spoke quietly to you; in probably the longest sentence you’ve ever heard out of him. His voice was nice, like the rumble of distant thunder.  
Startled, you peeked over Bonnie’s shoulder to see him, “Do what?”  
Frustrated, Mike rubbed the bridge of his nose and sighed loudly. Once again meeting your gaze, he felt his patience wear thin. Were you really that oblivious?  
“You got past them.”  
He jerked his thumb in the direction of the animatronics, currently-still even under his glare. You couldn’t say the same, squirming nervously; you were so glad that Bonnie hid most of you from sight. But you shrugged nonetheless, a bit bewildered, “Just luck, I guess.”  
After that, he allowed you to continue uninterrupted, though you did hear a lot of grumbling and swearing coming from his direction. The awkward tension was palpable, uncomfortable. You could almost feel the scrutiny of his gaze.  
You wondered if he had something else to say.  
A while later, when you were satisfied that the animatronics were as presentable as they could be, you got ready to go home. They almost looked like new, and smelled a hell of a lot better than they did before. It was a massive improvement. Supplies now put away, you collected your things from your locker. Mike was still in the main room, having some kind of stare-off with Freddy, but you knew he’d move off to his office when he needed to. It’d be midnight soon anyway.  
Returning to his line of vision, he cast the robots one last glance before he turned to you. He dwarfed you by at least a foot, even while slouching, broad-shouldered and sturdy.  
“Come on.” He grumbled around an unlit cigarette, hands shoved into his pockets, “I’ll walk you out.”  
How polite.  
How out of character.  
But, what harm would it do?  
You offered him a smile, a bit pleased that the unapproachable Mike would even think of walking you to your car. It just didn’t seem real.  
The night air was warm, a slight breeze cool against your skin. Despite being less than thirty feet to your car, it was still an incredibly awkward walk. You tried to act natural when you reached your car, turning to thank him – you were a bit surprised to see him already watching you.  
“Good night, Mike,” your smile returned, warm like the sun, “Thank you for –“  
He shrugged, a puff of smoke dispersing from his mouth, and turned to leave without another word.


	3. Innocence and Instinct

You should have known by now that it was far too dangerous to remain after hours. Surely, you should have caught on by now. That night you got locked in after midnight should have been indication enough that you weren’t safe, but from Mike’s perspective, you just didn’t get it. You came back, night after night, not finishing your work until the last minute. It took you quite a bit longer now, since you kept on top of cleaning both the animatronics and his office, and yet, every time you still made it out without a hitch. Sure, luck might have had something to do with it, but really, how long did you really think it would take before they caught up to you?  
You were an idiot in his eyes. You should have quit while you had the chance, but for some unknown reason, you stayed. He knew he’d be out of here in a heartbeat if he had the choice. But a contract is a contract, and he was stuck with it. Well, providing he lasted any length of time at all. The animatronics seemed to be getting worse and worse, and Mike feared that you had something to do with it. Ever since that night, when you had been face to face with Chica, they had been much more persistent in their attempts at getting into the office.   
How pleasant. It was about to get a whole lot worse.

Losing your keys was not on the agenda that evening. You checked every pocket, even under the tables in the dining room, but still you couldn’t find it. You were painfully aware of the seconds ticking by. In the staff lounge, you’d emptied out your bag, hoping it had been hidden beneath whatever crap you kept in there, but alas. You were out of luck.  
You were out of time.  
The alarm startled you from your panic.   
That meant Mike was here now. Maybe he’d let you borrow his keys, or at least unlock the doors for you. You knew technically the doors weren’t supposed to be opened now until six am, but you were only a few minutes late. What harm could it do?  
You put your things away, and headed out into the dining room. It would be a bit awkward, sure, but you didn’t really feel like being stuck here for six hours alone with Mike. There’s no way it could go well.   
Out in the open, three sets of eyes simultaneously set themselves on you.  
The tiny hairs on the back of your neck stood on end. Like the last time, Chica was the first to move, slow as she climbed off the show stage. You’d have to get past her to reach the security office.

Mike almost shat himself when he saw you were still on the premises. He hadn’t taken the time for a proper sweep before his shift began, which he was now regretting more than ever. He watched through the camera, concerned as you faltered in the dining room. Why weren’t you going for the doors? Why weren’t you getting out of there?  
You remained stock still, even as Chica lumbered closer and closer. Dragging a hand over his face, the brunet groaned quietly. He was going to have to be the hero, right?  
For a woman he barely knew, in a building he hated, doing a job that would surely get him killed.  
Fantastic. The odds were incredibly depressing to think about. Mike honestly just wanted to die right there.   
Refocussed on the cameras, he noticed you seemed to be squaring up to Chica. Probably trying to find a way past the oversized chicken.   
If only he could warn you..  
Then he caught sight of the intercom. Maybe it still worked. Sparing one last glance at the tiny pixels of your form, he scrambled for the radio device. With a frustrated whine, he turned it on and brought the mouthpiece closer to his face. He would absolutely die of embarrassment in any other situation, if anyone were to every hear him sound like that, but this was important. He didn’t have time to care. You needed him.  
“Hey, [Na-‘’ he began, almost frantic, but the device let out an unearthly screech. It echoed through the building. You cringed at the noise, finding the camera; the light was a tell-tale green. Narrowing his eyes, Mike tried again, “Get to the office, it’s your safest bet. And for fuck’s sake, don’t let them get a hold of you!”  
You took a step backwards, moving to cross the room even as Chica followed. The same sad looked remained upon her face, and you almost felt pity for her. You didn’t know why though.  
It was then that you realised Bonnie was getting off the stage now too.   
“Damn it..” You hissed, forced back further towards the corner of the room. Mike ground his teeth together. He took a second to check on Foxy, and much to his eternal agony, the animatronic was already looking out between his curtains. Well, shit.  
This night was just getting better and better. And it had barely even began.


	4. Ventilation

With objective in mind, you tried to figure out the best course of action to take. Heading for the kitchen would cage you in, as would the bathrooms and staff lounge. The arcade would provide obstacles to slow them down, but would ultimately trap you. Staying where you were was out of the question. You had to make a move, now. But wait..  
You had an idea. So, you took the chance. Mike said to avoid contact, so that’s what you’d do. Narrowly, you avoided Chica – who was barely any distance at all when you snapped out of it – and rushed across the smooth chequered tiles and to the right. The animatronics seemed almost startled by your sudden movement, blinking their large plastic eyes slowly as you moved past them. Then they were back in pursuit. Dodging tables, you tried to ignore the sounds of their heavy footsteps, the creaking of their joints. To tell the truth, you almost forgot that Mike was even there; he was keeping quiet, thankfully, so as not to distract you. You had the beginnings of a plan, but you weren’t even sure it would play to your advantage. You would just have to wait and see.  
Hopefully, luck would be on your side.

The kitchen doors were heavy as you pushed them open. Inside, the room was completely dark, the only source of light being the tiny light emanating from the camera. It bathed everything in an ominous shade of red. A few moments later, it switched to green. Cabinets and countertops were only faintly outlined by the light, and you knew it was going to be difficult to navigate the room. But urgency spurred you on. Steady, you took a step forward, fingers tracing the cool worktops that you’d cleaned only hours earlier. The silence that enveloped the pizzeria seemed to almost deafen you. Blood pounded in your ears. Since his first piece of advice, Mike had remained completely radio silent – he was probably cursing you out right now. The thought brought a slight smile to your lips, but it didn’t last long; behind you, the door swung open.   
You ducked on reflex. You don’t know which of the animatronics had entered the room, and to be totally honest, you didn’t really want to find out. The door shut once more, drowning you in complete and total darkness. You couldn’t even see your hand in front of your face. At the topside of the room, the animatronics cut a silhouette of light out of the shadows, red for a second before switching back to green. Your heart hammered in your chest.  
You hoped they couldn’t hear it.

The linoleum was icy against your palms and knees as you crawled along, afraid to rise any higher of the ground for fear of being caught. The pair – you’d discovered two had entered by the number of silhouettes cast – had begun their traipse through the kitchen, every so often coming uncomfortably close to you. But you had managed to slide beneath one of the tables or counters, hidden from their sight, and from whatever fate awaited you should you get caught. You have no idea how long you had played this game of cat and mouse.   
Had it been 10 minutes? Twenty? An hour? you wished you knew.  
Soon, though, you found it. The key to reaching Mike without being caught.  
The ventilation system.   
As quickly as you could, you undid all of the latches that held the panel in place against the wall, mindful to remain absolutely quiet. It had other ideas.   
With a horrifyingly loud creak, it came away from the wall.  
“What was that!?” Mike panicked through the speaker, for the first time since the night began. You didn’t have the time to answer, hauling yourself into the narrow gap, just as the footsteps reached you. The pounding of blood in your ears was loud and obnoxious, the sensation making you feel slightly sick.   
But at least you were safe for now. From what, you weren’t even sure. Maybe once you reached him, Mike would tell you why the animatronics had followed you. Why you weren’t supposed to get caught. You weren’t too sure you wanted the answers.  
Hopeful, you began your way through the ventilation system. With any luck, it would lead you right to Mike.


	5. Beauty and Rage

It was dead silent as you crawled through the vents. Every sound was blocked out, leaving you alone with the sound of your breathing, and the clatter of your palms and knees against the steel confines. You were so glad the vents weren’t too much of a squeeze, though your back was constantly pressed against the dusty panels above you; for sure, it was a claustrophobic nightmare. At least the animatronics couldn’t follow you inside. They were probably disorientated by your sudden disappearance, and had most likely gone back to doing whatever it was they normally did when you weren’t around. You didn’t really want to know that either.  
At a guess, you assumed there would be an exit to the vents somewhere near the security office; after only seeing the blueprints a few times, you wished you had paid slightly more attention.  
You didn’t think you’d need to.  
Taking a sharp right, you were brought straight into the dining area. Through the little gaps in the metal panels, you could see that Freddy was there now. Maybe he hadn’t moved yet.  
You hoped he would stay put, at least for a little longer.

You hadn’t meant to sneeze. It had been building for a while, what with all the dust you kept kicking up, but you had done your best to keep it in. It was so, so loud. Echoing through the vents and out into the party room, you were fairly sure it rattled the whole building.  
Even from here, you heard Mike let out a muffled snort of laughter, which he tried to cover with a cough.  
You’d managed to navigate yourself as far as the left hallway by now. The vents went no further, cut off by an impassive wire mesh. From your position, you couldn’t see any animatronics, so you wasted no time in unlatching the panel that kept you inside. It stuck a little, stiff, and you had to kick it out onto the floor. Wiggling out through the narrow gap, you managed to pull yourself into the open. The first thing you did was breathe in deep.  
“[Name]?” Mike called from the office, and the little green light turned on above your head, “Thank fuck for that. Get in here now.”  
You scrambled to your feet in a flash.  
Entering the tiny room, you tried to ignore the stormy atmosphere in favour of brushing yourself down. You sneezed again, prompted by the cloud of dust that turned your uniform from deep navy to a pale grey. You could practically feel Mike’s glare as it burned over you, but you chose to pretend you didn’t.  
“Thanks for that back there,” You began, finally looking up at him – and oh boy, was he mad. You felt your confidence shrink.  
He continued to glower, checking through the cameras with dark eyes, his voice a low growl,  
“What are you still doing here!?”  
You tried to square your shoulders, to make yourself look tougher than you felt; you don’t think it worked. Even sat down, Mike was still incredibly intimidating.  
“I-It’s not like I planned to lose my keys,” You cursed your stutter, “You really think I’d want to stay behind just for shits and giggles?”  
Thinking on that a moment, the brunet agreed that it was really unlikely that this was unintentional. But even so, to lose your keys was just foolish on your part.  
His distain was evident in the way he practically spat his response, “Yeah, well, maybe if you weren’t stupid enough to lose them, I wouldn’t have to watch out for your sorry ass!”  
A little taken aback, you blinked in shock. You knew he was coarse, but that was just plain cruel.  
“If you unlock the door for me, I’ll get out your hair.” Your request was a mumble at most.  
Now, that was out of the question.  
Incredulous, Mike gave a snort of derision, “Absolutely not.”  
Your brows furrowed, bewilderment giving way to frustration.  
“Why not? I'm not allowed to be here, but you won’t let me leave? What kind of fucked up logic is that!?” you were glaring by now too, posture defensive and fists clenched tight.  
That melted away when he rose to his feet, his sheer height intimidating you to back down. He leaned down close, finger prodded against your sternum, “Sit down and shut up, yeah.”  
You nodded, breath caught in your throat. The wall was solid against your back, cold through your shirt; you barely even noticed.  
With a huff, Mike returned to his seat.  
He’d deal with you properly in the morning.

You hadn’t meant to doze off. The sounds of doors slamming next you were the only thing that kept you from actually sleeping, as well Mike’s grouching. Knees tucked to your chest, you kept quiet, just as asked. He’d pretty much ignored you since his little outburst, but you were ok with that. You didn’t need him to shout at you again.  
Bleary, you were only vaguely aware of the alarm going off. It was officially six o’clock, and you could get out of here. You rubbed at your eyes, startled off the floor, taking a moment to stretch the stiffness out of your shoulders. You missed Mike’s eyes on you as you moved. Quietly, you slipped out into the left hallway, intent on replacing the vent panels to their original state. You hoped to get out of there before Mike found his tongue and went off on you.  
You had fixed the panel, and were halfway down the hall when his voice rang out;  
“Hey!”  
Shit. He found it.  
You cursed under your breath, before turning on your heel to face him. Like a cloud of thunder, he stormed after you, brows drawn together in anger.  
“Don’t let me catch you here after hours again,” He snarled, arm on the wall by your head, caging you in, “I aint gonna keep babysitting you.”  
His handsome face was close, so close, to your own.  
Before you could even find your voice, find any sort of response, he’d pushed away from you, taking long strides to get away from you.  
You heard the door unlock, then open, and then silence.  
It took you a few minutes to find the strength to move from against the wall, but you found it nevertheless. You could barely think as you replaced the panel in the kitchen, feet taking you there by sheer instinct alone. In the party room, one of your co-workers had already arrived to begin the day, a cheerful woman named Liz. She grinned brightly when she saw you, producing a set of keys from her bag.  
“Hey hun, I’m so sorry, I must have picked these up last night before heading home,” She practically sang, “I trust you had a good night anyway~!”  
She waggled her eyebrows, but her expression fell when she saw the look on your face. You hadn’t even realised the tears on your face until she was wiping them away.  
With nothing to say, you took your keys from Liz, and went home.


	6. Just the Way Things Are

Outside, in his car, Mike could finally begin to calm down. It hadn’t been your fault. You hadn't wanted to be there. Of course, you hadn't. Why would you want to?  
Head dropped into his palms, he breathed in deep, out, then in again. The steady rhythm brought his heart rate back to normal, the adrenaline leaving him exhausted. From the corner of his eye, he caught sight of you, crossing the lot towards your car. Even from here, there was a redness to your face - a tell-tale sign that you were upset.  
Probably crying.  
Actually, he was pretty sure that you were crying.  
That was on him.  
Yeah, he definitely shouldn't have yelled at you the way he did, even if he didn’t like you, didn’t know you, didn’t want to. Well, that was a bit of a lie, actually, but for all intents and purposes, Mike absolutely loathed you, and everything and everyone else involved with Fazbear.  
It was nothing personal.  
You'd disappeared into your car at this point, unaware, taking a moment to wipe at your face. Then you were getting the hell out of there.  
A smart idea, to be honest.  
When he was sure you were gone, Mike did the same.

You were already dreading the coming night. Sure, you could work quicker, and be gone long before Mike arrived, but there was no way you'd be able to get everything up to standard in such a short amount of time. It just wasn’t possible.  
Whatever. That was a problem for future you. Right now, all you wanted was a hot shower, something sweet, and to snuggle into your cosy bed with a good book. The emotional turmoil had taken it right out of you. Your movements were sluggish as you unlocked the door to your apartment, shoes kicked off as soon as you were inside. Your roommate was already out to her work, leaving you alone to an empty house. You dumped your bag and coat on the sofa, promising to no one that you would move them later, and headed for the kitchen. Your dinner from the night before was boxed neatly in the fridge; your roommate must have done that when you never showed up home. You'd almost forgotten to be hungry, what with killer animatronics and angry men, but now your stomach was reminding you quite loudly. Shoving the plastic container into the microwave, you plodded off to take a shower. 

By the time you had finished your shower, and had shoved your dusty uniform in for a quick wash, your dinner was cool again, but you didn’t really mind it. Your roommate was a master in the kitchen; even cold, her food was still pretty good. Sometimes, you wondered why she wasn’t off somewhere doing that as a career: hell, even Gordon Ramsay would be impressed. Instead, she waited tables in the most depressing happy place on the planet.  
That was just another of life’s great mysteries.

By now, you weren’t angry or upset anymore. Not at Liz, not at Mike, not even at your boss for barely even paying you minimum wage. You were full and tired and warm, ready for a long nap. It was as if last night was just a bad dream, ready to be forgotten, replaced by much more important things. You were almost on autopilot as you put your dishes in the washer, your clothes in the dryer, and yourself into bed. it was just what you needed, soft and safe and heavenly. Your book remained on the bedside cabinet, untouched, as sleep came quicker than expected. Before you dropped off, while the threads of consciousness lingered in your mind, you sent Liz a quick message, an apology for giving her the cold shoulder – it wasn’t her fault, even if she did steal your keys.  
Despite the sun peeking in between your heavy curtains, the city bustling down below, you were out like a light.

While sleep came easy for you, elsewhere, Mike was having a lot more difficulty. After a rather lacklustre supper of cold stew and a beer, he wasn't quite sure what to do with himself. Sleep was the most obvious answer, but if he was being honest with himself (a truly rare occurrence), he wasn’t sure he could. Every time he even thought about drifting off, an image of your face appeared in his mind – eyes wide, face pale, terrified. So scared, and of him, no doubt. It was kind of ironic, in a sad way, that you seemed more afraid of him in that moment than you had all night.  
That was usual for Mike though. He didn’t – shouldn’t – have minded. It was how he’d prefer it, to be honest. Company and friends just weren’t for him, so it would save a lot of hassle if you would just leave him alone. But even so, to have you outright terrified of him just felt so wrong.  
Why, though? He had no idea what made you any different from anyone else.  
It was oddly infuriating.  
Whatever. It was a problem for future Mike to figure out. Cracking open another cold one, he stamped out the stub of his cig in the ashtray. The monotonous hum of the local news station filled his ears as he turned on the TV, letting it be the backdrop to his morning.  
This is how it was supposed to be. Easy. Alone.  
Ugh. Maybe he’ll just apologise to you later, forget all about it, and get on with his life.  
By the time he’d finished a third can, he’d dozen off right there on the sofa.

Mid-afternoon. Man, he thought, rubbing the grit from his eyes, bleary and slightly disoriented, didn’t mean to actually fall asleep here. His back ached from the uncomfortable position, left arm numb from being caught underneath his head. A shower was the first thing on the agenda. Well, almost; his phone, tucked between the cushions, caught his attention. It kept buzzing, constantly, as if there was a tiny bee stuck inside it. Or maybe an angry wasp. Yeah, that seemed much more likely.  
But no, it was just the stupid work group chat. Mike didn’t have much time for social media, and he didn’t use it often, but the boss had pretty much insisted he join the infernal chat, if only to keep him in the loop. Usually, though, he just muted it. He didn’t really care about his co-workers, or what they got up to on their free time. As far as Mike was concerned, since he took his shifts alone, he worked alone. Glancing just barely through the messages, he caught sight of several words that ruined his day more than it already was. ‘’party’’, ‘’night out’’ and ‘’drinks’’ were just some of the key day-ruiners. Aside from maybe the last one. A drink was always something to look forward to.  
No! Absolutely no parties or group outings for Mike. He’d rather stare Freddy right in his ugly face than hang out with a bunch of people he had no interest in knowing. Running one large hand down his face, he closed the tab and threw his phone back down onto the sofa.  
Mike struggled to his feet, stiff, and hobbled down the short hallway to his bathroom. It was a small room, cramped, but at least he got hot water. Well, usually he did, anyway. Luckily, today was one of those days. He stripped out of his uniform, leaving it in a messy pile on the floor. He’d clean it up later. One arm braced against the wall, Mike reached down, undoing the strap around his thigh to remove his prosthetic. It used to really bother him, but by now it was just how things were.  
It didn’t matter anymore.  
The water was hot, almost too hot, but he stepped under it regardless.


	7. Strangers, Not Quite

You were avoiding him. Two weeks later, and that was the conclusion Mike had reached. You were always out the door before he arrived, and rarely even looked his way anymore, though he wasn’t all that surprised. He didn’t blame you, to be honest. He’d been way out of line.  
But he still had to apologise, even if he would inevitably end up ignoring you again afterwards. It plagued his conscious more than he would ever care to admit. But he couldn’t understand why getting exactly what he wanted bothered him so much. It didn’t make any sense.

The evenings were drawing in much quicker now, once-lengthy summer days getting shorter and shorter. You worked at a steady pace, having found a good rhythm to get your job finished and still be out the door before Mike had even left his car; it always felt a little rude to brush him off, but what else was there to do? He didn’t seem any more eager to speak to you than he did before. Maybe this was all for the best.  
In record time, you had finished with all the rooms, and now all that was left was the animatronics. Since that first clean, they took nowhere near as long to manage. It had made such a difference, even the boss noticed. Apparently, a lot of parents were glad for your efforts, enough so that you’d earned yourself a teeny tiny raise. Hooray!  
To be honest, you still had mixed feelings about the animal mascots. On the one hand, they still creeped you out a little, but on the other, you didn’t really know why they did. Since the bite, the company had been very careful to keep on top of safety protocols and fail safes, so accidents weren’t supposed to happen. But then, what was Mike so afraid of?  
None of it made any sense.

Mike was going to speak to you tonight. No matter what. He’d made up his mind to get this over with, and then hopefully things would go back to the way they were before. You were somehow taking up space in his mind, and to be frank, it was more than a little distracting.  
He’d arrived at the pizzeria a little (read: quite a bit) earlier than he needed to, the onset of nervousness beginning to twist in his gut. Why was he nervous? Mike didn’t even know. Taking a moment to smoke a cigarette, the brunet decided now was a good time to figure out what it was he actually wanted to say. The air was colder now when he exited his car, the sky a gorgeous gradient of yellow to pink to blue, to endless black. Stars twinkled to life overhead, and for the first time Mike stopped to admire them. He wasn’t the sort of man to stop and enjoy the view.  
A puff of smoke, and his nerves fizzled out. He could do this. How hard could it be?  
Putting the cigarette out underfoot, Mike headed for the door inside. The crunch of gravel seemed almost deafening, accompanying him all the way to the front doors. They swung open, unlocked, and he stepped inside.  
You were nowhere in sight.  
However, a bucket of still-steaming water waited up on the show stage.  
Eyeing the animatronics, he dithered for a moment, unsure of whether he should wait for you here or try to find you on his own.  
You made that decision for him.  
As you returned from the back room, you didn’t even seem to notice him. Coughing into his fist, Mike successfully managed to startle you from whatever you were thinking about; with disastrous results.  
You jumped a bit, slipped on the tiles still slick with water. And then you were on the ground.  
The tiles were wet and cold beneath your back, and for a moment, you saw stars.  
You swore a little under your breath.  
A shadow fell over you, hand outstretched; it was then that you recognised it as Mike.  
You took the proffered hand, and he hauled you to your feet.  
“Sorry for scaring you,” He grumbled, loosening his grip to take a step back, “And.. sorry, for the other night. I shouldn’t have yelled at you.”  
Rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly, the night-watchman at least had the decency to look a bit guilty. For only a moment, you looked a little sceptical, but it vanished when a sweet smile lit up your face.  
“It's ok, you don’t need to apologise. I get it.” Your smile seemed to light up the room, to banish the inherent darkness tied to this place. It was like a breath of fresh air.  
He hadn’t realised how much he’d missed it.  
‘That was weird,’ Mike thought, awkward all over again, ‘Did I really just think that?’  
You were still looking at him. Heat pricked along his face, and he was quick to go back to avoiding eye contact. When had had become so embarrassing? God, he felt like such a blushing school-girl.  
“Well, I wanted to.. a-anyways, see you around!”  
Mike’s new prime directive; get the hell out of there. Nervous, he turned and practically sprinted down the left hallway towards his office.  
You blinked after him, bewildered.

Okay, that could have gone worse.  
Mike could at least give himself credit for actually managing to say what he wanted to say. He didn’t embarrass himself, you didn’t laugh, and neither of you died; all in all, a successful interaction. It was still far too early for his shift, but at this point there wasn’t any point in going home again – besides, you were still out there, and he’d look like a fool if he went back. Maybe he’d take a quick nap to pass the time.  
Yeah, no, that would be unlikely with the amount of coffee he’d already had.  
Whatever. He was sure he’d be fine.

Quarter to eleven. Work finished for the night, you debated going to let Mike know you were on your way out. That way, he could maybe have some peace of mind, knowing you weren’t stuck inside with him.  
Yeah, that was a good plan. Supplies returned to their proper place, all you had left to do was lock the doors on your way out, bag organised and ready to go.  
You had enough time to bid him goodnight.  
The hallway was dim and creepy, only serving to remind you of the last time you got locked in. You shivered, the tiny hairs on the back of your neck standing on end; you couldn’t wait to get out of here.  
Through the window, you saw the night-watchman was busy writing in a little notebook, face intent and serious. Dark brows drawn over deep oceanic eyes, focussed entirely on the task at hand. You didn’t really want to disturb him, but since you’d come all this way, it would be pointless to turn back now.  
Quietly, you knocked on the doorframe.  
Thick metal thunked into place, a hairbreadth from your nose, closing you out of the office.  
You were glad you hadn’t actually been stood in the doorway.  
Almost immediately, the door receded. Mike was on his feet, a mixed look of annoyance and concern on his handsome features – it was an attractive look, you had to admit.  
“What’re you still doing here?” The brunet asked, weight rested against the doorframe. A curl of smoke drifted from between his lips, and you found yourself oddly transfixed; it took the rise of his eyebrow for you to remember how to not be a weirdo.  
You cleared your throat, and offered him a small smile, “Just thought I’d let you know I was going. We don’t need a repeat of the other night, heh..”  
You didn’t really know how to talk to Mike, to be honest.  
He was a bit of an enigma, but if he’d let you, you were interested in getting to know him at least a little.  
“Right. Yeah. That’d suck.” A hint of a smile.  
In the silence, a clock ticked steady towards midnight.  
Though you turned to leave, you thought better of it, a question on your tongue; “Will you tell me? Why you’re so afraid of them?”  
It had been on your mind since that night. You knew he’d been angry, but to you, it only made sense that it was out of fear. But of what?  
Mike paled; eyes wide.  
Time was hurrying onwards, and you needed to leave. He couldn’t risk you staying another night. A huff from his nose, brows drawn, “Yeah. Goodnight.”  
It would have to wait.  
You took a step back, shouldering your bag.  
“Goodnight, Mike. Take care, ok?”  
And then you were off towards the doors, towards freedom.  
He watched you go.


End file.
